


old school (make me drool)

by peachyteabuck



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, F/F, Little Space, Punishment, background bucky/ofc, background steve/ofc, brat taming, mdlg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:52:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21974599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachyteabuck/pseuds/peachyteabuck
Summary: bunny is sweet, well-behaved. something about princess, though, makes her want to act out for the first time in her life.
Relationships: Natasha Romanov/Original Female Character
Comments: 12
Kudos: 57





	old school (make me drool)

**Author's Note:**

> this is highkey unlike anything i've written before and i'm curious to know y'all's thoughts. do you love it? do you hate it? lemme know!

It started when Princess had to go with Steve to a meeting with Natasha. For whatever reason Steve decided she couldn’t be alone, and Natasha said it would be fine. Princess wasn’t too mad, unhappy she could only bring one of her prizes stuffed animals, but nearly-willingly went with her Daddy to Aunty Nat’s. Still, it wasn’t until she met Bunny that the pointed frown left her face.

Steve put her down onto the thick comforter next to Bunny, whose lips were wrapped tightly around a paci, hands clutched around a large stuffed animal of her namesake, eyes trained on the TV in front of her. Her long, thick hair was tied from her face with a pink scrunchie with a bow on it, her knit sweater a matching shade of pink. Her socks were stark white, ankle devoid of the tracker Princess had to wear.

Bunny said nothing at her guest, head only turning when Natasha caressed her face.

“Uncle Steve and I are going to do some work in my office, okay Bunny?” She placed a kiss to the girl’s head where her hair parted, careful not to remove any from her perfect ponytail. “I’ll be down soon to give you your bottle. Until then, play nice with Princess, alright?”

Bunny, still not dislodging the paci, nods and leans into her Mommy.

“Good girl,” Natasha praises, leaving one final kiss to her girl’s forehead before leading Steve into her office, a room adjacent to the playroom the girls resided in. In a moment of good faith, she had her coworker close the door behind them.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Steve chuckled as he sat in the fine leather chair near the fireplace. “I put that track on Princess for a reason, you know.”

Natasha sighed, grabbing the file from her desk. “If we weren’t discussing how someone was disemboweled by a small terrorist organization outside Orlando, I’d keep it open.”

Steve, already worried about what Bucky had exposed Princess to in order to watch her squirm, acquiesced.

Back in the playroom, Bunny made a disgruntled noise as Princess poked her chubby cheek.

“Do you _ever_ speak?” Princess asked, nose wrinkled at her supposed playmate’s poor playful reciprocation. “Daddy said you were quiet, really quiet. He said you almost _never_ talk. I’m not quiet.”

Bunny, much to Princess’ dismay, remains mute. Not a squeak, not a huff, not an eyeroll. Even Bucky’s Doll was better than this, and she was often too exhausted to give Princess enough attention for the girl’s liking.

Princess, though, is anything but a quitter. She pulls back for a few minutes, allowing her counterpart to relax. Just as Bunny seemed the happiest, Princess yanked the paci out of her mouth and pinned her to the floor.

Bunny tried to yell, but Princess placed her hand over the girl’s mouth before she could do anything. As Princess leans close to her ear, she whispers low, giggling as Bunny clutches her stuffed animal’s ears in her tiny hand. “Daddy says we can be playmates, do you want that, Bunny?”

Suddenly, in the span of less than a second, Princess hears her Daddy’s footsteps, hears the knob turning, and jumps off Bunny to the other side of the blanket. Bunny laid, there, stunned, as Nat and Steve picked up their respective littles.

As Steve bid his goodbye, and Nat turned around to close the door, Bunny perched her chin on her Mommy’s shoulder and locked eyes with Princess, who wears a smile fit for the evil penguins from the movie Bunny was watching before Princess showed up.

Somehow, Bunny knew their game wasn’t over.

The next time they met, Bunny is playing on a blanket in Natasha’s expansive backyard, dressed in a plain-pink one-piece bathing suit with her hair in two braids down her back and the bracelet Doll made her on her left wrist. Peter’s in the pool, sunbathing on a unicorn floatie. Doll’s curled into Bucky’s side, shoulders covered with one of her Daddy’s worn t-shirts – one large enough to cover her sensitive, bruised thighs. Natasha, Stark, Strange, and Rogers are all inside, making drinks for themselves as the sun swelters high in the sky.

Princess is the only other conscious person who remains outside, an easily forgettable body as Bunny colors under the sweet shade of the big tree in the back of the expansive yard, quiet enough that the occasional squirrel or bird will hop across her blanket and sniff at her forgotten snack.

She’s unable to ignore her counterpart, though, when Princess plops herself down onto the thick, cotton blanket specifically designated for outdoor use.

Bunny, despite her annoyance, says nothing.

Princess says nothing in turn, watching the girl in front of her meticulously color in the lines of a complicated flower.

“Daddy never lets me color anything like that,” she finally says, staring at the set of sixty-four crayons Princess had wanted for two Christmases and three birthdays but still never received. “Daddy says they’re too complicated for me.”

Bunny stops coloring for a moment, whole body stilling. Princess thinks she’ll say something, thinks she’ll show a break in her shell that’ll give her some in. But no, the sound of crayon gliding against thick paper fills whatever silence Bunny intended to proliferate with words.

It’s then that Princess takes out one of the most-loved crayons – a soft blue that’s had the wrapped long since pulled off.

“Do you like this crayon?” she asks Bunny.

Bunny stops coloring – bright orange crayon inert as she tries to swallow the dryness in her mouth. Fear paints her face as she gazes upon her favorite coloring tool. Out of all her markers, her colored pencils, her watercolor paints. None of those hold a candle to _that one crayon._ It’s the only crayon she doesn’t like Natasha using, the only one she saves for the special coloring book pages – the ones she gifts her Mommy for Christmas and for her birthday and when Natasha picks her up from spending time at Uncle Bucky’s place because she’s been on a business trip.

Which is why Bunny nearly cries when Princess snaps it in half, then crushes the pieces into something resembling dust. She does whimper, though, does drop the crayon she’s holding and curl her legs up to her chest and stares at Princess with these wide eyes that beg for her to stop whatever it is she thinks she’s doing.

“What’d’ya gonna do about it?” Princess questions. When Bunny doesn’t answer, Princess quirks her eyebrow then moves to grab another one.

Bunny gasps, tears beginning to well up in the corner of her eyes. “Please don’t,” she whispers.

Princess pretends not to hear her, and selects another well-used crayon. “Really, you’re just gonna be a baby and let me do this?”

Bunny looks around the lawn, begging Natasha to come outside or Peter to feel how frightened she is or even Bucky, a man who rarely pays attention to her but seems to like her more than Princess, to look over and wonder why there’s such tension between his best friends’ best little girls. Unfortunately (for you, at least), none of them pay you any mind. Somehow this is worse than when Natasha has to leave you alone for work or whatever it is she does when she’s away. At least then you don’t have to do deal with Princess.

“ _Please,_ Princess,” Bunny says a little louder. “Please don’t break my crayons.”

Princess smiles wide and sinister, like that Cheshire Cat from that movie you don’t like very much. “Alright then,” is all she says before standing up and skipping off to lay on the Aurora towel that was in the shade of a different tree. Even though she’s alone, Bunny remains upright, curling around her precious box of crayons.

The third time they meet is Bunny’s birthday party about a month later. The main festivities are over, all the adults drinking from Natasha’s expensive liquor cabinet. Doll’s curled up on Bucky’s lap, playing with a My Little Pony toy (Applejack, of course) and occasionally being fed bits of cake from Bucky’s fork; Peter’s enthralled with the latest installment of their classic movie marathon that’s playing _just_ too loud for Bunny’s liking.

On any other day, Bunny would be elated to watch her favorite movies with her favorite friend. She’s allowed to eat ice cream cake (vanilla, from her favorite pastry shop down the street) and wear her favorite pink dress.

Her hair is in two low buns with a pretty pink bow. Natasha spent the whole morning with Bunny in her lap, telling her how cute she is and how much she loves her. Everything was great, _perfect_.

That was, until Steve and Princess showed up. Natasha was preoccupied with catching up in her friend to notice Bunny clutching her favorite stuffie or Princess’ sly smile.

Like the first time they met, she and Princess are placed on the blanket that sits in the middle of the playroom. This time it’s fleece, thick, one Bunny made with Doll one of the rare times they’ve had playdates together. It’s full of mint green and soft pink flowers around a bunch of sea animals. Bucky said he found the blanket kit at a craft store and thought the two of them could make it when he and Natasha were working in his office.

There were a few moments of silence as Steve pet Princess’ hair and explained how much Princess had been looking forward to today. Princess just smiles big and wide and teasing, waiting for the adults to leave before she finally speaks.

“Ya know, Daddy and I love teasing each other…” Princess says as if she’s the most innocent conversation maker to ever fail to meet her counterpart’s eyes. “You and your Mommy should try it sometime.”

Bunny gulps, fidgeting with her hands. “Mommy doesn’t…Mommy doesn’t let me do that without her permission.”

Princess scoffs. “Oh, you ask your _Mommy_ for everything. Daddy hasn’t made me do that in forever.” She lowers her voice to a whisper. “Daddy _likes it_ when I act out.”

“Mommy doesn’t,” Bunny doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know how to stave off what she now understands is inevitable. “Mommy doesn’t like it when I act out. She likes it when I’m good. I get candy, cuddles, stuffies when I’m good.”

Princess almost rolls her eyes, frustrated. “Maybe you should just _try_ it sometime, just to see what happens.”

Bunny doesn’t say anything back, too scared of what would happen. Natasha always told her curiosity killed the cat, but could curiosity kill _her_ as well?

Hours pass without incident, without Princess nagging Bunny or Bunny snapping at Princess or, really, anything happening. Princess merely leaves her to brew for hours, eating cake with her fingers and eyeing Bunny to see how she’s doing. Bunny’s lost in her own thoughts, the only indication of time passing being Steve coming in take Princess home.

As Steve picks her up once more, a smirk spreads across her frosting-stained face. Her eyes are knowing, full of mischief. In the background, the forest fire scene from Bambi plays on the large TV. Bunny wishes she could be one of the forest creatures running for their life, able to get away from the natural disaster that had descended upon her home.

Despite her fear of Princess, her words stick in Bunny’s brain like gum in her hair. It’s all Bunny can think about for days, maybe even _weeks_ after her birthday party. It gets worse when she’s alone, when all she _has_ are her thoughts and her hands and…and…

Bunny decides to do something, do the _unimaginable_ the day Natasha says she’s going to have lunch with Stark and Strange. That she’ll be back in a few hours.

_Just enough time_ , Bunny thinks as she hears the front door shut and the deadbolt lock. _Just enough time for her to do the unthinkable_.

◦ ◦ ◦

“Bunny!” Natasha calls into the house. There’s the usual pause, one where she’s used to allowing Bunny to find her voice. But for whatever reason, she doesn’t hear the usual _yes, mommy?_ followed by the pit-pat of her feet across the house. “Bunny?” she calls again, but the only thing she can hear is resounding silence.

Natasha’s heartrate picks up tenfold, not even throwing her shoes off as she runs to the room she kept Bunny in when she had a long work day. As she types in the code to open the door, Natasha is met with a sight she’d never thought she’d see:

Bunny, with one hand down her pullup, and the other clutched over her mouth. Her pale yellow pajama shirt is hiked up to her ribs, threatening to fall over where her hand meets her center.

For a moment Natasha does not know what to do, body frozen and chest heaving and heart racing. Bunny hadn’t so much as blinked without permission, let alone touched herself sans asking Natasha beforehand.

Squeaky, breathy moans slip past her fingers, eyes rolling to the back of her head as her body shakes with the desperation that comes just before an orgasm.

That’s what snaps Natasha out of her trance, what makes her fly across the room and grab Bunny’s face with her perfectly manicured hand.

_“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”_ Natasha hisses through her teeth.

Bunny bites her lips, eyes wide with fear. “P-princ-“

Natasha almost growls. “What, Steve’s little?”

Bunny nods slowly, meekly, lip quivering in fear as Natasha hand remains firmly grasped over her jaw. “P-princess s-said that it woul-d be f-un to-“  
Natasha, a woman who has not had a hair out of place since the Reagon administration, nearly knocks over Bunny’s designated stuffed animal bookshelf. Wordlessly, she places Bunny over her knee and exposes the soft skin of her ass.

Bunny hadn’t been spanked in years. Ever since Natasha had gotten her, broken her, she’d been the perfect little – so obedient and eager to please, smart and quiet, happy to play by herself while Natasha worked with the others. She was everything Natasha could’ve asked for and somehow more…

But this? This was inexcusable. She was a big believer in second chances, but those must always come after an appropriate punishment.

“You think just because Steve’s Princess can whine and act however she wants, that means you can, too?” she hisses, hitting each cheek twice. “You think that girl’s behavior excuses your own?”

Bunny yelps, trying to find the strength to speak without sobbing. “N…no…” she mumbles, digging her face into her and trying to curl against the woman whose lap she has found herself in.

“What was that?” Natasha snaps, hitting the backs of her thighs this time. The slaps of skin on skin echos throughout the room and stabs at Bunny’s ears.

“No, Mommy, I am not allowed to misbehave! I am not allowed to break the rules”

“Good,” Natasha says through grit teeth. She takes a moment to grope her heated ass cheeks, and you savor the sweet moments away from the sharp pain. “If you didn’t know your place, I would’ve had to call Steve up to see how he keeps Princess in line. Maybe Bucky, too. He once kept Doll in a basement for two weeks because she wouldn’t eat her vegetables. Do you want that?”

Violent shivers shoot through you. Uncle Bucky and Steve are nice enough to you, especially when Natasha’s around. But with her permission to discipline you in their preferred way? You shrink away at the thought. “N-no Mommy. No, Mommy I’ll _promise_ I’ll be good.”

“Good girl,” Natasha coos, another few smacks landing on her bottom. “Now, for the rest of your punishment…”  
Bunny gulps, trying to relax her muscles so it doesn’t hurt as bad.

“Now, should I put you on meal replacement shakes or keep you in chastity?”


End file.
